While it was raining
I told you
that i must taste like salt
and if you mind it
i can step outside
to come back wet
and return to bed
curling into a cocoon
and feeling the sheets stick
to the slick slick coolness
of my summer morning skin
————
when it stopped raining
you told me
you were moving back west
needing to be somewhere open
you mumbled something
about stinking humidity
as I watched you
looking in the mirror
running a hand through your hair
running a hand through your hair
clearly hating the way it curled
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